Phanniemay drabbles
by sorenalice
Summary: Quick drabbles written for some Phanniemay prompts on tumblr.
1. Space

Danny stared down at the letter in his shaking hands. It was just a letter. White and rectangular, his name typed neatly at the center, a blue logo positioned with the return address.

It was just a letter, but it was so much more.

He'd worked tirelessly to even qualify for the space program. He was able to pick his grades up and join the High School's Astronomy Club.

Every day was wake up, get ready, go to school, fight some ghosts, stay after school to figure out what he missed, fight more ghosts, show up a little late to the Astronomy Club meeting, fight ghosts, go home, fight ghosts, do homework, fight ghosts, eat dinner, do homework, fight ghosts, study, fish ghosts, get some sleep, fight ghosts, and then the cycle started over again.

He pulled all of his grades up in the first month of his new found motivation. He was diagnosed with insomnia, but it was worth it to him. Good grades meant Space Program, which meant astronaut.

There was no way he couldn't get in. He'd worked too hard, and for too long for it.

His fingers clumsily ripped open the flap and pulled out the paper.

_Dear Mr. Fenton,_

_We regret to inform you that, while you passed all of your examinations and were a perfect candidate for the Space Program, your physical examinations were not permissible. Our scientists found a trace of a substance known as 'ectoplasm' in your blood, along with many other irregularities. Please consider going to a hospital._

_With best regards, Gen. C.F. Bolden_

Danny felt the world around him collapse.

He crumbled, sinking to the floor and letting out an anguished cry.

He just wanted to go to space.


	2. Favorite Episode

The family he had built for himself burned before his eyes. Charred corpses falling apart at the seams, to mangled and deformed to tell who was who. Red blood ran in rivers around cracked, blackened skin, staining the equally burnt tarmac around them.

The social workers took him away from the home he had shared with them his whole life. Away from everything even remotely familiar. A fresh start, they said, to help you move on. He didn't want to move on.

He lost everything he'd ever truly cared about. They were the reason he became a hero. They were the reason he kept fighting, despite everything that was thrown at him. Bad grades, sleepless nights, ridicule from the classmates he'd just saved, hate from the town he suffered for.

He had no reason to keep saving anyone. They didn't deserve it. They were cruel and uncaring towards him and his family while they were alive, but now they were understanding and compassionate.

He hated them.

He'd never hated anyone more.

Not even the man they were taking him to. Vlad understood. He was alone too. He was a half ghost who had lost everything, but had been able to gain something better.

Just like he hoped to do.

But even Vlad couldn't move on from what he had lost, considering his behavior towards Danny's mother.

But now she was dead and he had nothing to hope for anymore.

Their hopes had both been blown away in that explosion.


	3. Ghost King

_AU in which Danny is the Ghost King._

He'd never really wanted to be king.

He didn't want to rule, or hold any power over anyone, really.

Sure, he wanted to be respected, but who doesn't? If you're not respected, you get hurt.

But he never wanted people to fear him like they do.

People jump when they hear his voice. There's always a little light of fear in their eyes, behind their faked emotions.

Nobody liked him.

Even the people who supposedly liked him, his friends, his family, they were all scared of him. They only acted like they weren't so he wouldn't do something to them.

He didn't know where the rumors started. Some prisoner probably decided they would trash the boy king, and for whatever reason, it caught on.

He'd heard the gossip from the maids. They thought he couldn't hear, but he head everything.

"I've heard he massacred an entire village, all on his own!"

"Did you hear about the prisoners? The guards say they've all been tortured! Even the ones who were just in there for petty crimes!"

"Word on the street is that he'll take orphans in and kill them,then string 'em up in his room like art!"

Every new rumor he heard was like a knife to his heart.

He would never hurt anyone like that, let alone his own people. Why didn't they trust him?

Just because the last king ended up like that didn't mean he would.


	4. Transformation

She knew where Danny was being kept, and what they were doing to him, but she couldn't save him.

Neither she nor Tucker had the ability to pull of what they needed to to get him out of that hellhole.

She knew every detail of the place, and there was still no way they could swing it and come out clean.

The security was too tight, and their plan was too risky to even try.

If they did go in, they would get caught and detained, and probably used to "help" their research.

If they did manage to get him, he would probably be too messed up to function without a doctor, and no one in their right mind would ever consider helping Danny. Everyone knew who he was, and what he was.

Jazz wasn't an option, because she tried to break in a month earlier, and hadn't been seen since.

But they would help anyway. They couldn't just give up and leave her best friend to be tortured by those monsters. Even if they couldn't get Danny, they might be able to find Jazz.

Tucker was back in the van he'd gotten for his 17th birthday, monitoring security and hacking into the GiW's systems to make sure Sam would have a chance at getting in undetected.

A bug was lodged in her ear, and a camera strapped to her shoulder so they could communicate and direct each other.

Sam scurried alongside the imposing barbed wire fence that surrounded the facility, damp grass crunched under her feet. The moon and the distant streetlights were the only things guiding her path.

She dropped to the ground when she reached the rabbit-hole they'd been digging for the past week, big enough for one person to fit through, and covered with long grasses so it was undetectable.

She shimmied through the gap under the fence and dashed across the lawn, dodging the mines she knew were placed just under ground.

Tucker kept silent, only making small noises of warning when she was about to step on a mine.

She was able to make it through the field unharmed, and ran up to the main building. She punched in the code to the door Tucker had mumbled into her ear, and it swung open with a squeak.

The blindingly white corridors stretched on and on endlessly, only occasionally breaking with a solid white door. No labels identified any of the doors, or any map to help her out.

She followed Tucker's directions carefully until she finally reached a door, the same white as the others, but scratched a little.

It wasn't a big scratch, just a small, blue scrape that matched Jazz's nail polish.

She quickly entered the code into the keypad over the handle and walked inside, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of life.

The only thing she got was blood. Too much blood. The metallic smell creeped into her, roiling her stomach and swirling around her.

Jazz sat, curled up in the only clean corner, shaking and shivering.

"Jazz."

Jazz flinched, pulling herself inward, wrapping herself into a little ball. "Please, stop, just stop hurting him, please. Please." Sam barely heard the whisper over her own beating heart.

"Jazz, it's me. It's Sam. We're getting you out of here."

Jazz turned her shaking head to get a good look at Sam, her eyes widening. She stood quickly, swaying a little, but a look of determination shone in her eyes. "We need to get Danny."

Jazz marched past Sam, her bloodstained clothes rustling with every step. "Do you know where he is?"

"Yeah. They've taken me to his cell before." Jazz kept one hand on the wall, steadying herself as she walked.

"What was all that blood, Jazz?"

She didn't answer.

She finally slowed to a stop when they reached a door, stained ectoplasm green.

Tucker rattled out the code, and Sam quickly entered it, slamming the door open with a thud.

They were almost there. Their plan had actually worked. No one was dead yet, and Jazz was already free.

Sam stopped when she saw the inside of the room.

Empty.

Except for one quivering pile of black and white in the farthest corner, arms outstretched and oozing green.

Danny was alive, but he was too broken. He held out his arms so they could handcuff him, and drag him where they needed to go.

"Danny. Come on. We need to go. You're free now."

He didn't even move.

"Danny, it's Sam. Please, we have to go."

Danny withdrew his arms and glared at them. "I thought you stopped doing the hallucinations." He looked pointedly at Jazz.

"Danny, we're not-"

"Leave me alone. I don't need you any more."

"Danny-"

"Stop. Get away from me." He turned away, curling in on himself.

Sam gasped at the sight of his back. Scarred and mangled beyond recognition. Jazz gulped beside her, recognizing the injuries.

"Jazz, what-?"

"That's what the blood in my cell was from. He was misbehaving, so I punished him."

Sam was speechless.

Jazz had said that so flatly, like she was reading from a textbook. There was nothing behind her words, and nothing in her eyes.

She had changed.

It was never Danny they had to be really worried about in a situation like this. He was strong, not unbreakable, but strong enough to last.

Until his sister broke, and tortured him.

Jazz had snapped, and Danny suffered.

Jazz had changed too much to be saved. She was one of them now.

Sam had been caught before she could save anyone.


	5. Underappreciated

Dani had always been the odd one out.

She was different from the others. Her parts were different, her clothes were different, everything about her was different from the others.

Father treated her differently than the others too. He prized her more, he put her up on a pedestal because she was the only "complete" one.

That doesn't mean she matched up to what Father really wanted, none of them did.

No matter what any of them did, it was never good enough for him. It wasn't what "Daniel" would have done, or how he would have done it.

It was just too much of a difference for Father.

So Dani and the others worked had to prove themselves. The others had a bit of a ways to go because they were "incomplete".

The only thing Dani had to do to get a smile out of Father was play with the toys he had gotten for "Daniel" when he was supposed to move in.

There was a telescope and a model rocket set. Some books on space and a lot of posters that Dani hung around the lab.

Father would take down all the posters she put up, but she knew he thought it was endearing.

But no matter what her or the others did, they were all locked up in the same room at night, and forgotten about until Father opened the door, which had taken a few days, at one point.

They were just his playthings. Hidden away until he wanted to play with them.

Most of them were deathly skinny because of how often he left, and the fact that the room didn't have toilets didn't really help much with the smell, which Father hated.

They all did their best to stay clean, and to wipe up after themselves, but it was hard because they didn't have cleaning supplies, and had to do most of it by hand, which made the smell even worse, and Father usually punished them for that.

It was even worse when Father took her away from the others. He sent her to find "Daniel". The real one. Not Danielle, or one of the Daniels Father had made.

They were going to be replaced by the real one.

The real one who had never once been there for Father, not in the way Dani or the others were.

It was them that deserved his love. Not "Daniel".


	6. Anniversary

Last year they had surprised him.

His mother took him shopping while the rest of them prepared the house.

Streamers were taped up high, and hung low, tangling with balloons and strewn everywhere he could see.

A small pile of gifts laid in the middle of the floor, waiting for him to open them.

Jack had ordered pizza and gotten four liter-bottles of pop. Jazz ordered the cake, which the bakery messed up on and spelled "Happy Birthday, Manny!" with a cute dinosaur underneath it.

The birthday song was loud and off-key, but it was them, and that made Tucker's audial assault kinda okay.

He'd never been alone on his birthday.

He always had someone with him. His parents, his friends, his family.

Today he was fifteen, and had no future.

He sat, shivering in the back of the cage his parents had built specifically for him.

Glass walls, laced with blood blossoms and reinforced with ectoranium bars. Metal mesh floor charged with electricity that could be turned on or off with the flick of the switch.

His parents were right in front of him, not even thinking that it was their son's birthday. Just working away like it was any other day.

His heart ached.

There was really no way he could tell them the truth. If he did, they would get mad that he was impersonating their son, and hurt him even more than they already had. Even if they believed him, the odds of them actually accepting the fact that their son was their #1 ghost enemy was very low, and he'd end up on a lab table, ready to be cut open.

He had no one to celebrate with.

Jazz was in college, Sam and Tucker had told him that they wouldn't be able to make it to his party because their parents had both planned to visit family over the weekend. Sam's parents had probably planned it specifically so she couldn't come to his birthday.

He sighed and dropped his head against the cold, unforgiving wall of glass and anti-ghost materials.

It was such a small thing, a birthday, but it always happens right when you need it most. It gives you hope that your friends and family will always be with you, and reminds you for the rest of the year that you're loved. It lifts your spirits and makes you smile like a maniac.

Unless you're already half-dead.


	7. Crossover- COULD BE TRIGGERING

Hannibal raised his head, carefully examining the family before him, his eyes narrowing as he took them in.

He didn't normally take family cases, in fact he avoided them whenever possible, but this one was too good to pass up.

It was the daughter who had contacted him, Jazz. The sixteen year-old future psychiatrist who stared at him with a look similar to someone meeting an idol. She was concerned about her family, especially her younger brother, Danny.

It was interesting that the boy's parents were so out of the loop of their own son's life.

Many parents do not know what their children get up to. A frequent question might be; "When was the last time you saw so-and-so?", when the parent really should know if their children have been away with their friends. The fact that many parents don't is worrying, but vastly less concerning than other things.

This situation was frankly alarming.

They had no idea what he got up to when he wasn't at school. Even when he was at school they had no idea. The records of skipped classes and tardiness, and occasional unexplained absences were proof enough. They didn't know when he got home, left home, where he was when he wasn't home, who he was with, and according to Jazz, had forgotten his birthday on multiple occasions.

Not really the behavior of concerned parents. It was no wonder the boy's behavior had escalated that far, his parents weren't around to tell him when to stop and Jazz was oddly secretive.

"Really, , I don't see why this was necessary. We're a perfectly happy family." The mother, Maddie, said with a smile.

"Then why are you here? Clearly you had your apprehensions about your family life, or Jazz is more persistent than I thought."  
"Jazz has been so… adamant… about coming to see you, Doctor. I'm doing this to humor her."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jazz cross her arms and roll her eyes, typical irritated teenager behavior. He held back a smirk and nodded.  
"I understand that Dr. Fenton, but I have spoken to Jazz. She is very well educated in these matters, and I believe her doubts about your family situation may hold some clout."

"Clout?" Maddie snorted and cocked her head at Hannibal, blinking at him in disbelief. "You're telling me my sixteen year old daughter can judge her own family's mental health and give a legitimate diagnosis?"

"As I said, Dr. Fenton, Jasmine is very well educated in the field of psychology, I would even be willing to have her as an intern, if she were not my patient. Age does not always mean accuracy, Doctor. Jazz's fears are sound, from what I have observed."  
Mr. Jack Fenton, the father of the family decided it was his time to join in. Danny simply sat back, his face disturbingly void of emotions. "Mads, I think what Dr. Lecter is trying to say is that Jazz's reasons for wanting to see him are real, and denying that won't help anything." He put a massive hand gently down on his wife's knee and rubbed, a frown gracing his face.

"What can we do, Doctor?" Maddie barely whispered.

"I would like to speak with Danny alone, if that's alright. You can all sit in the waiting room." All of the Fentons, except Danny, nodded and stood, leaving the regal looking room and shutting the door behind them with a soft click.

Danny sat stock still on the couch, never moving, hardly blinking. His pupils were dilated, and from what Hannibal could tell, his breathing was rushed, panicked. Short, small breaths. Deep bags hung under the boy's eyes, too much for a fourteen year-old. He was thin, barely skin and bone and when his eyes did move, it was because he was looking for a threat.

"You don't have anything to worry about. I will not tell your parents anything unless it's urgent."

He barely missed the way Danny's breathing hitched at the mention of his parents.

"I know."

Hannibal nodded at the boy's response. "Tell me about them. How do your parents treat you?"

The boy said nothing.

"Jazz tells me you haven't been sleeping well. You wake up with night terrors if you get any sleep at all. What do you dream about?"

Danny stayed still, distrust clear on his face. Hannibal narrowed his eyes as a thought came to him. "If your parents are hurting you, I won't let you or Jazz go back home with them. I will call the police, you will be taken into Child Protective Services, and there will be an investigation."

Danny jumped a little. His expression a mixture of shock and fear.

"How- how did you get that?" His voice was barely a whisper. His hands were tense, white knuckling the smooth black leather of the sofa, halfway out of his seat.

"It is common for children suffering abuse to have night terrors and PTSD, among other things. Is someone else hurting you?"

"Wha- PTSD? Like what soldiers get?"

"Yes. I'm sure if we were to take a few tests for PTSD, you would score positively on many of them. Now, do you want to talk about it?" Danny relaxed a little, his fingers losing their death grip on the couch as he slumped into his seat, glancing up at Hannibal, unsure of what to do.

"And you- you're under like, an oath or something too, right? Like anything I tell you is secret without a warrant or whatever, right?"  
"Doctor-patient confidentiality. I can't tell anyone unless you give me permission. I will lose my license if I do. I do, however, have authorization to tell your parents about anything I think is harmful behavior, unless I deem it counteractive to healing."

Danny nodded, his hands nervously dancing across his lap, deep in thought.

Hannibal waited silently while Danny mulled things over in his head.

_Jazz said he used to be a surgeon, so he's good with medical stuff and all that, and it would be really nice to have someone to talk to. I mean, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz are great, but they're too close to everything. They could get themselves hurt and I don't want to load my problems onto them. But this guy, his whole job is problem helping. Like, he gets paid for people to load their problems on him. He's really good at it too, I guess. Plus, if he tells anyone, he loses his job and is basically discredited from everything ever. Besides, he figured out the whole ghost fighting thing, even if he doesn't know it's ghost fighting. If he tells anyone, I may as well announce my secret to the world. It's for the best._

"You can keep a secret, right?"

"Of course." Hannibal smiled gently, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Danny took a deep breath and nodded, as if affirming his own thoughts and making a decision.

"I- uh, well I- shit- uhm… I've never actually told anyone, you know? Like, everyone who knows was either there when it happened or found out on their own. But- uh, I've never…." He paused, looking around the elegant room and debating what to say next."A few months ago, I was in a lab accident. My parents built a ghost portal, and you know Amity Park, right? The ghost capital of the world?"

"I have heard of it, yes." Hannibal said with a hesitant nod.

"That's where I live. My parents are ghost hunters there, and they built a Ghost Zone Portal in our basement. It's a door between the world of the ghosts, and the world of humans. At first, it didn't work. They put the power button inside.

I was down in the lab with my friends, showing it off, y'know? My friend Sam wanted to get a photo of me in it, wearing a jumpsuit, about to explore a brave new world. Plus, I kinda wanted to go in anyway, maybe see if I could fix it.

It worked out a little better than I expected.

There were wires laying around on the floor and, I'm not exactly graceful. I tripped and leaned up against the wall to stop myself from falling.

I felt a click under my fingers and the next thing I knew, I was being fried by electrified ectoplasm.

I sorta lost consciousness ad some point, and when I woke up..." Danny slid off the couch and stood, taking a deep breath and looking Hannibal straight in the eye. "I looked like this. "

A bright ring of light gathered at Danny's waist, splitting and changing what was underneath them.

"Danny Phantom. " Hannibal muttered, surprise working its way across his normally stoic face. "The ghost boy. You're the ghost boy. How?"

Danny bit his lip. "We don't really know how. We've figured out that I'm half ghost, and that the Portal altered my DNA somehow."

"Fascinating. Do your parents know? "

"Uh- no. I never told them..."

"I can understand why, but is it safe for you to live with this a secret from them?"

Danny transformed back into his human self and slumped back into the couch.

"I don't know. Probably not, but what if I tell them and they don't accept it? What if they kick me out of the house and never want to see me again? What if-"

"Those are a lot of 'what ifs', Danny. Do your parents love you?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"Are they open minded about things, willing to accept new ideas?"

"Not about _ghosts_. They think ghosts are evil, unfeeling blobs of post human consciousness and ectoplasm."

"Are they?"

"Of course not! Every ghost I know can feel. They're just people. Bad people turn into bad ghosts and good people turn into good ghosts. People who aren't one or the other just want to be left alone in the afterlife."

"Have you told your parents that?"

"No, but..."

"How do you know they're so closed minded about ghosts if you won't even correct their thinking?"

"That... actually makes sense."

" I have a question, if you don't mind."

Danny nodded, glancing curiously up at Hannibal. "Sure..."

"Why did you choose to tell me your secret? We haven't known each other long and you haven't even trusted your parents with it?"

Danny thought on this for a moment, chewing on his cheek. "I just kinda thought that since it's your job to keep secrets and help people, I could trust you with it. I also needed someone I can trust to talk to about stuff. I mean, my friends are great, but they're just kids. I can't shove all of my problems down their throats."

"You are also a child. What is the difference between you and them?"

Danny hesitated, looking away from Hannibal. "...I already gave everything up. My grades are in the toilet, I'm in school for a total of maybe a half hour every day, on average. I may as well drop out."

Danny looked down with the admission. His heart clenching with all he had lost. "I never really get to hang out with my friends anymore because of the ghost attacks..."

"I see... You wanted someone who could help you carry your secrets, and who your secrets couldn't hurt."

"Yeah... And Jazz told me you used to be a surgeon, so I figured you'd be good at patching people up... I can't go to the hospital for a few reasons, so..."

Hannibal nodded with understanding "You need someone with healing experience."

Danny shifted awkwardly in his seat. "If- I mean if you're okay with that..."

"Of course. I can give you my cell number so you can call me when you need me. We can talk regularly with your appointments, which your parents can pay for, and everything else will be free of charge."

"Re-really? Thank you! That's-"

"I can't expect a high schooler with no income to pay for massive medical bills."

"Thank you so much, . Thank you."

"You're welcome. I am going to prescribe you some pills, then you may leave. Your pharmacy will have everything in a few days. I will see you next week." Hannibal stood, smoothing out his blazer as he slid towards the door, swinging it open to the room the Fentons occupied.

" ?" Maddie stood, nervously chewing on a fingernail. Hannibal sighed and squared his shoulders.

"I have prescribed Danny some anxiety pills, as well as sleep aids, antidepressants, and SSRIs to treat Post Traumatic Stress Disorder." He held out a sheet of paper, various medications scribbled across the front.

"PTSD? How did Danny get PTSD?" Jack rose from his seat, grabbing the prescription and reading over it, his face contorted with worry.

"Unfortunately, that is not something that can be solved with only a half hour of therapy. I would like to have weekly meetings with Danny, to see if we can't work through this."  
"I-I don't know if we can pay for that…" Maddie looked down, chewing on her lips, deep in thought.

"Our insurance covers all of this, Mom." Jazz piped up from her seat before she stood and put her hands on Danny's shoulders.

"It does? How do you know?" Maddie stared at her daughter, her eyebrows up to her hairline in surprise.

Jazz rolled her eyes. "Mom, I set this whole thing up, did you think I wasn't going to pay Dr. Lecter?"

"Well I- I never really thought about it…" Maddie glanced over at Danny and let out a slow breath. "We can do weekly meetings. I'll make sure of it. When can we set it up?"

"I am free Tuesdays at this time, if that works for you."

"Of course it does, thank you Doctor." Jack herded his family toward the door, shaking Hannibal's hand and pushing them out the door. Danny waved and smiled at the Doctor as he was walked out of the office.

* * *

**Months later**

* * *

"Danny, would you like some pork?" Hannibal smiled up at the ghost phasing through his kitchen ceiling. Danny grinned, a hungry glint in his eye.

"Yeah, you have some of the best cooking ever. And Mom added the anti-ghost stuff to the cereal again, so I haven't eaten all day."  
"I'll make it an extra large serving, then." Hannibal smirked as he drizzled oil over a steaming pan, making it sizzle and pop. "How have you been doing?"

"Alright, I guess. Dash left me alone for some reason today, and I got a C on a math test, so things are looking up today."

"And what about the ghosts?" Danny hesitated at Hannibal's question. He raised a hand and rubbed behind his neck nervously.

"Well, I had to miss lunch today because Technus decided he needed to try and take over the beauty technology industry and I spent all lunch trying to track down rogue hair straighteners." He finished with a chuckle. Hannibal's lips quirked upward as he flipped the meat on the pan.

"Dinner should be ready soon. Do you have anything you'd like to talk about?"

Danny took a deep breath, leaning up against the cold metal of the countertop, and said, with a low, dark voice, "I have a 49% approval rating in Amity Park."

"Is that good?" Hannibal didn't even look at Danny as he sprinkled herbs over the pan.

"No. It's higher than it was at the beginning, but I just had a 68% approval rating last week. I don't even know what I did wrong." Danny slumped over dejectedly with a sigh.

"Maybe it wasn't what you did wrong. Are there new hunters in town? Your approval rating went down when the Guys in White moved in too, if I remember correctly."  
"No, there's nobody." Danny shook his head. "I just don't understand, I mean, why do they hate me? I've tried explaining, but they never listen. They just find more reasons to hate me, they even make up reasons to hate me. There was a woman who said she caught me standing over her baby's crib at night. I've never even seen an actual crib being used, I've never seen this woman and she's trashing me."

"Perhaps that is why your rating went down. People are telling stories to make you seem evil. It's a part as what is known as the 'bystander effect'. People witnessing harassment and do nothing about it, encourage it, or even join in, and that is what is happening. People are joining in to sully your name, regardless of the truth."

Danny pursed his lips in thought. "That does make sense. But why would they do that? I never did anything to them."  
"People are strange creatures. When they see someone they like doing something, they might want to do it so they look good as well. You have some very influential people in your community who think your ghost half is evil, and that is where the problem stems from. If you could convince them of your true intentions, I would assume your rating would go up."

"I just have to figure out who they are first." Danny muttered with a crooked smile. "Do you need any help?" He glanced down at the pan, now empty, but still sizzling.

"No, I've finished." Hannibal presented two plates, lavishly decorated with vibrant greens, red tomatoes, sliced to look like flowers, and juicy pork, all set up like art on the canvas of the plate. "Bon appetit." He handed a plate to Danny and poured some water into a glass for him, setting it down on the counter and digging into his meal.

Danny devoured his in minutes. "Honestly though, can you teach me how to cook because _wow._ I think this is the best thing I've ever eaten." He licked his fork clean and tried to gather what was left of the sauce drizzled on his plate.

"I would love to cook with you." Hannibal's thin lips spread into a secretive smile. "Say, would you mind tasting something for me? Young taste-buds are so hard to come by these days."

Danny gave Hannibal a crooked grin, smiling around the fork in his mouth. "If you made it it _has _to be good."

Hannibal's smile grew even more as he strode over to the fridge, swinging the door open and allowing the chilled air to rush out. Pulling out a small bowl of green pudding, he nudged the door shut and walked back over to Danny, barely holding back a grin. "It's pistachio pudding. Made from scratch." Giving Danny a spoon, he leaned over the metallic counter and waited.

Danny took a bite, savoring all he could. His eyes widened and he beamed up at Hannibal, wolfing down the rest of the pudding. "This is so good! Oh my go-" He cut himself off with a groan. "I don't think I've ever had anything this good, like this is art."

Danny's smile stretched from ear to ear. He felt safe around Hannibal. He felt protected. Like nothing could reach him. Hannibal Lecter was a surgeon, the only reason he quit that to become a psychiatrist was because he lost a patient.

Not exactly confidence-inspiring, but honestly, Danny didn't care. There was an adult he could talk to as himself. Completely as himself. No lies, stories, or cover-ups. He could be a ghost and a human around someone who had the knowledge on how to help him, both mentally and physically. He could talk about his ghost and human problems. He hadn't felt so safe since the accident.

He felt himself lean against the counter, his mind feeling fuzzy and far away as his vision blurred into a mess of shining metal and crisp white walls. Black clouds wove through his eyes, and before he knew it, he couldn't see.

He would've thought it strange, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He slipped away not long after he realized that something wasn't right.

* * *

The first thing he felt was cold. Even for him, with his normally hypothermic temperature it was cold.

His brain pounded against his skull, making him groan with discomfort. He raised his hands to his head, trying to rub out the tension, but found he couldn't.

His hands were bound at his side.

His eyes snapped open.

A smooth ceiling, the familiar surroundings of Hannibal's kitchen, but the familiarity was tainted with the knives prominently displayed not two feet from his head.

He was laid at the center of the counter, his arms strapped down with glowing ropes, in perfect anatomical position.

He tugged at his wrists, trying to free them from the stiff grip of the rope, but was stopped when cold laughter echoed through the kitchen. "Who's there?" He sat up, or tried to anyway, his eyes desperately searching the room.

"Danny, Danny, Danny…" the voice chuckled in a condescending tone. "Don't you know you shouldn't trust people with your secrets?" The voice ended with a giggle, footsteps sounded around the edge of the room.

"Wha-what do you want?" Danny struggled against his bindings once more, focusing closely on slipping his hands out.

"It's very simple, really. I want you." The voice, so familiar in its sound, but so unfamiliar with how the words were spoken, moved again, pausing before continuing. "I consider myself a connoisseur of fine foods. I only find the best, make the best. Now, normally I only eat the rude, I do have standards. But _you_, Danny, a half ghost, that's a once in a lifetime taste, wouldn't you agree?" Danny saw a shadow flicker behind the knives, and suddenly everything made sense.

"Hannibal? What- why- what-?"

"You know how much I love gourmet foods, especially rarities. Why wouldn't I take the chance to enjoy this one? I doubt anyone will be able to try a half ghost after this."

Danny's struggling stopped, an incredulous look on his face as he stared disgustedly up at Hannibal. "What, what does that even-" A look of realization spread over his face. "Oh god..." He pulled himself as far away from Hannibal as he could, squirming on the countertop, trying his hardest to not vomit. Danny had imagined many grim scenarios that came from his being half ghost, but being pinned down and prepared to be eaten by his fucking psychiatrist was not one of them. He glared at Hannibal, struggling away from him.

Hannibal chuckled and turned away.

"How would you like to be done? I prefer medium, although I haven't had ectoplasm, so I wouldn't really know. I'm assuming you've had some." Hannibal turned back to Danny, a thin smirk gracing his face.

"You're sick." Danny spat at Hannibal, struggling against the cuffs that tied him to the table.

"Illness, Danny, is a relative term." Hannibal slid the knife into Danny's stomach, dragging it down his side and slicing off an inch of skin and sinew.

Danny's scream was wrenched out of his mouth, and echoed around the kitchen, reverberating off of the stiff metal countertops.

"That is a prime cut, Danny. You should be proud of yourself." Hannibal tied a gag around Danny's thrashing head, wiping away the tears that had streamed down his face. "If you're any good, I may prepare you for some guests I'm having tomorrow night."

Danny yelled out from behind the gag, blood streaming out of the gaping hole that used to be his side. Hannibal gave him one last smile before slicing him across the throat, smiling faintly as blood spewed out of Danny's neck like a firehose, a look of fear and shock finding its way permanently to Danny's face.

Hannibal made quick work of the rest of him, organizing and cutting away at the slightly glowing organs. He wound them tightly in plastic wrap and set them gently in his freezer, admiring the collection of fine meats he had amassed.

He took the cutlet that he had made while Danny was still alive and seared it in a pan, cutting it into small squares and seasoning them with choice herbs. Just a dash of white wine and vinaigrette later, and he was finished.

It was one of the best meals Hannibal Lecter had ever had.


	8. Desiree

Everyone around her celebrated. A new year, a new start, new fortunes.

New everything.

Her Master held a glass of bubbling champagne loosely in his hand, tottering around drunkenly with two scantily-clad girls glued to his hip, trying to usher him into the bedroom he'd wished for.

He'd seemed like a nice enough guy when he first opened her lamp, but his power was getting to his head, just like the rest of her masters.

None of them had lasted more than a month with her power at their disposal.

They all wished for extravagance, riches, adventure, but couldn't deal with the backlash each brought.

Her very first master was killed by the wife she had helped him get.

A while later, another master was killed by an assassin for political reasons.

Another had died flying a plane around the world, lost at sea. Never to be found.

It would be the same with this one, too. The wishes always turned sour.

She liked guessing at how her next master would die. Her favorite theory for this one so far, is falling off of the deck of the skyscraper penthouse she'd gotten him. He might die of alcohol poisoning, but that was a less fun way to go.

The clock stuck twelve, and everyone around her cheered, smiles wide and drunk on happiness.

Desiree let out a slow breath.

Another year, another master to kill, another year of being tied to the lamp, alone and eternal.


	9. Time Travel

The amulet throbbed against Danny's core. Every clean edge felt like molten metal, burning and melting the ice inside him. Eating away at his soul until there was nothing left.

It had long since been removed, but he still felt it. With every pulse of his core, the scar of the cog-shaped amulet pulled itself apart, splitting his carefully healed core.

Every once in a while, it would get bad. Very bad.

The pain echoed out from his chest, and shook his bones. Rattling them against each other like wind chimes.

On those days, he would black out. He would fall down in one time, and wake up in another.

He'd been all over. He never moved from the one spot, though. If he fell down in school, he would be exactly where the school was 5 million years ago, or 3 million years in the future. Which is potentially problematic, however you look at it.

He'd seen dinosaurs and space ships. Dinosaurs being strapped to spaceships.

It was cool the first few times. The amulet stopped hurting, he was in another time, and it was temporary.

But then every day turned into one of those days, and he spent more time traveling than he did in his own time, with his friends and family.

They were starting to notice. He would always rush away to hide, then he'd be gone, god knows when.

He tried finding Clockwork, asking him to fix it. But before he could even reach Clockwork's, he was in the middle of a Ghost Zone war under Pariah Dark's rule.

Eventually he stopped going back to his own time.

He was constantly changing times. Not even stopping long enough to figure out when he was.

Never home.


	10. Spectra

He knew what she was doing. Sucking him dry. Draining him until he had nothing left, and ended up doing something stupid.

Danny knew.

But he couldn't stop it.

Every day she came back, and every day, his strength, his will, his courage to face the day was shaken.

Her words cut into him, digging under his skin and ripping out all of his secret vulnerabilities that he had hid from the world, showing them off, shouting them at the top of her lungs.

First it was mild, just being called a baby. Not a massive blow to the ego, but still frustrating. He wasn't weak. He fought ghosts on a daily basis. He fought fucking Pariah Dark, and not once did he cry.

Then she stepped it up a notch. Being called a loser was a little hurtful. Not enough to be considered wounding, but it was there. He had never fit in at school, never really been liked by anyone but his family and Sam and Tucker. He was basically alone, him against the world, with help from Sam and Tuck, obviously, but they were in the same boat. They had to take care of themselves. They tried their best to support each other, but in the end, they needed to make sure that they survived.

Then she brought the big guns out. Exposing his biggest insecurity, and all of the smaller ones connected to it. Like a spider web.

"Freak."

Was he a human, a ghost, some weird thing in between? Would anyone be okay with it if they knew? Would they lock him up god-knows-where and do god-knows- what to him? If they didn't, would any of them be willing to love him, maybe? Would he ever have a date with a girl that wasn't his best friend? Would he ever get married, have kids? _Could_ he have kids? Would anyone hire a ghost? How would he survive? Would there be ghost-specific segregation? Would he still have his rights? What if they did take him in? Would people fight for his freedom? Would anyone care? Would his family still love him?

What if they knew?


	11. Mother's Day Death

_So, a day late on this one, and I'm combining it with death. This one's a bit graphic and what not, so be warned. _

The metallic smell of the lab mingled with the electric scent of ectoplasm. The Ghost Portal's dim green light illuminated the dank room and cast eerie shadows on the lab equipment.

The ghost boy, Danny Phantom, swayed where he stood, a look of shock and confusion twisting his face before he fell, his eyes loosely shut.

Maddie rushed forward, throwing her ectogun to the floor. She grabbed the boy by his shoulders, dragging him to a lab table and hoisting him up with surprising difficulty.

He was a ghost. Ghosts usually only weighed about 20 pounds, all together. But Phantom easily weighed five times that.

She worked his backpack off and flung it aside, not even bothering to think why he had a backpack with him.

She zipped open his jumpsuit, exposing his slightly burned skin. The burns were worse the closer you got to his left arm.

She slipped his gloves off and gasped. His entire left hand was blackened and crisp. No pink flesh or oozing green ectoplasm, just skin. It had a chalky texture, like it could easily be broken, but it was stiff and cracked from Phantom's movement.

She pulled up his sleeve, her stomach twisting at the sight of the black burns stretching up his arm and fading into a tan, tree-like scars ran around his arm and stretched onto his back.

Maddie stood back and frowned, furrowing her brow and biting her finger. She turned away, walking over to the other side of the lab and grabbing a syringe.

She plunged it into Phantom's chest, avoiding bones and reaching under his sternum, just to his left, exactly where his core would be.

She took a sample, confusion marring her face when red blood was sucked into the syringe along with bright green ectoplasm.

She put the sample in the "Fenton-5021"- an invention Jack hadn't quite gotten around to naming yet. It was supposed to test a ghost's ectoplasm and find out all of the components and ghost's abilities and limits.

She turned back to Phantom, lying dead as a door nail on her lab table. His face still frozen in confusion, and his dull green eyes wide.

Maddie sighed and turned away.

It was so odd seeing Phantom so still. He'd always been moving when she'd seen him. Not stopping for even a second. He even mimicked breathing.

But now he was still. So very, very still. It was unsettling.

And he was so young. His face hadn't quite lost it's childhood chub, his eyes still big and youthful, despite having a haunted look in them when he was still "alive".

Maddie would guess he was maybe 13, 14. Not older than 16.

He was so young when he died.

Maddie couldn't stop herself from wondering how long it'd been since he had died. Was his family dead? Were they still alive, watching the ghost of their son risk his afterlife to fight other ghosts?

Maddie's eyes slid over to the backpack Phantom had been carrying with him. It was a simple, purple backpack, nothing particularly special about it, just a backpack that a child would bring with them to school.

She unzipped it and looked inside. Her stomach twisted at what she saw.

Daisies and a card.

The flowers were bent and scuffed up a little, but what's to expect with being in a backpack. Maddie lifted the daisies to her nose, they had always been her favorite flower, save for blood blossoms, of course. She smiled as she breathed in the gentle smell of the daisies and set the bouquet down. She looked at the card. It was blue and had a picute of a heart on the front, with fancy gold lettering that spelled out "Happy Mother's Day!"


	12. Childhood

Maddie looked down the barrel of her smoking ectogun. Her eyes wide in shock as the figure just feet in front of her collapsed, a ring of light exploding from his waist and traveling over his limp body, changing ghost to human in the blink of an eye.

But she didn't blink.

His round cheeks, pointed nose and kind eyes were unmistakably _Danny_. The only reason that she hadn't noticed before was because the thought of someone being both human _and_ ghost was completely absurd, no one had ever even thought it was possible, and yet it was.

She didn't even need to think about what had happened to make him this way. The Portal was the only ghost related material he had come into intimate contact with since his troubles with school and behavior first started. He had gotten electrocuted when he turned it on, and somehow, it gave him the ability to be a ghost.

And he was only fourteen.

He didn't have his driver's lisence, couldn't drink, vote, or live on his own, and yet he saved his hometown on a daily basis.

He shouldn't be worrying about whether or not he'll have a school to go back to, but how he's doing _in_ school.

He should be worrying about what he's going to wear to prom, not what he's going to wear to cover up his bandages.

His childhood was slipping by him, and there was no way he could catch it again without hurting someone.

He was trapped.


	13. GiW

I never see anyone anymore.

I don't exactly _want _to see anyone _here. _Seeing _anyone_ here is a bad enough sign already. I don't want to make it worse.

But if I could go home, of if someone could come to me, maybe even a complete stranger, I would be okay.

Just so long as it's not someone who wants to hurt me. That's why they can't be from here. They have to be someone else, they can't be with the GiW.

It's been six months and eighteen days since I last saw anyone but the hand that slides a tray of food through the doggy door attached to my cell door. I know because they gave me a marker and I've been keeping a tally above my bed of how many times I wake up, but it might not be very accurate because I got sick a while ago and I kept falling asleep. And sometimes I forget to count one because I'm too busy trying to talk to my pillow.

Sometimes I hear people talking, and I try to talk back, but they don't hear me and they ignore me.

One time they did talk back, but it wasn't a conversation.

"Hello?"

"Goodbye."

I like to talk to the door sometimes. I drew a face on it with the marker I'd named Drew.

I thought it was funny.

Sometimes I think I hear music. Maybe Ember is here too?

It's been so long since I saw her. I wonder if she's still dating Skulker? That was gross. I can't really see the two of them fitting well together.

Sometimes I like to imagine what it would be like if I weren't here. It's one of my favorite things to do, actually.

I like to imagine that I graduate high school and go to college and get accepted to NASA and maybe marry someone. It's usually Sam, sometimes Valerie. Once it was Paulina and I didn't join NASA, I was a model. That one was weird.

I see things too.

I'll look over at a wall and I'll see my family, or Amity Park. Maybe the Ghost Zone.

Anything is better than these white walls.


	14. Unlucky

Danny wasn't really Tucker's first friend. Danny is the friend he's had for the longest, yes, but not the first by a long shot.

Tucker's father had been friends with Victor Baxter, Dash's dad, when they were younger. Dash came over often, and they actually got to be pretty close. They promised that they would always be friends.

Until Tucker met Danny while Dash was away visiting his family. And when Tucker invited Danny over to his and Dash's play date, Dash got jealous.

He threw a tantrum and had to be picked up by his mother.

The next time Dash and Tucker saw each other at preschool was the start.

Tucker tripped on every crack in the pavement for no reason that day, even walking under a ladder and almost stepping on Mrs. Haversham's black cat.

Dash wasn't a suspicious person, but he could be if he needed to be. So, he pointed out Tucker's bad luck and threw a rock at one of the bathroom mirrors, blaming it on Tucker.

Dash went out of his way to make Tucker unlucky. Tying his shoelaces together, following him around with rabbits' feet whispering "Bad luck Tuck".

After months of his classmates teasing Bad luck Tuck, it got to be old news, and they moved on to Danny, whose parents had just put up that awful neon sign on their house.

Tucker wasn't expecting to ever hear that old nickname ever again. But then Johnny 13 came to town, and brought Bad luck Tuck with him.


	15. Stuck

_Gives up*_

Danny tilted his head back and leaned on the wall behind him, glared at the wall in front of him, snorting out the cobwebs that had been sucked up his nose.

He really needed to get more balanced because for fuck's sake, he tripped on the rug in the hallway and now he's jammed between the goddamn walls with a fuckton of spiders and spider webs and god knows what else.

He'd already called Sam and Tucker to tell them that he'd be late to the movie because he was stuck in between the drywall of his own home. They laughed, which was easy for them to do because they weren't the ones losing control of their body and turning into ghosts every so often, and told him they'd buy him a ticket and give it to him when he got there, which he supposed was very nice, but he might not be able to get out in time to go to the movie because he was still shaky on how he got into the walls in the first place.

He'd only had his powers for a few weeks and the movie was Sam and Tucker's way of trying to get him out of his shell and maybe not isolate himself completely.

Danny couldn't really care less, at this point, on whether or not he was distancing himself from his friends and family or not. He could care very much that he was turning into the things his parents hated and everything that comes along with that shit storm.

It wasn't so much that he was bothered by being in the wall, although he was very bothered by it. He was more bothered by the fact that he can't trip on the fucking hallway rug without fucking up and ending up in the wall.

All of the other ghosts he'd seen so far have had perfect control over their powers, so why couldn't he?

It'd been almost a month since he had them and goddamn it, he was still shit at using them and not being in control of them was getting to be a nuisance. A kinda dangerous nuisance, with the way he fell nearly two stories into his basement last week.

Danny hit the wall, scowling at his still tangible hand. He had really wanted to see that movie, too.


End file.
